


Breathe

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 15 Inspired [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chuck Bashing, Coda, Communication, Cunnilingus, Dean Winchester in Denial, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s15e02 Coda, Episode: s15e02 Raising Hell, F/M, Jealous Sam Winchester, M/M, Office Sex, Rough Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Scared Dean Winchester, Scared Sam Winchester, Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 04:57:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: With the barrier weakening and the townspeople antsier with every day, the Winchester brothers find it hard to focus on anything that isn't the problem at hand. Sam tries to escape for a little while, but while his body was separated from everyone, his mind stayed in the heart of the gymnasium.Can a witch spell it out for him that the world isn't burdened on his shoulders? And will Sam listen?





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> So I never would have thought how much I love Samwena but last season's 'Ouroborous' episode was the nail in the coffin. And if the next episode is anything like I'm afraid it's gonna be (from the promo) than I should give the couple a moment in the limelight.
> 
> DeanCas... there are no words. Except 'We are.'
> 
> Enjoy the fic!

As a child, Sam never enjoyed being called into the principal’s office. The fear went far beyond any normal, high achiever’s life. The long walk from his classroom allowed every possibility to enter his mind, never any good. Extended periods of contact meant more chances he had to slip up and say something he shouldn’t. The wrong answer could lead to an avalanche of problems that would seriously affect the course of Sam’s life. At times he nearly went blue in the face, only able to breathe when the door closed behind him and he was free.

The same unsettledness followed him now as he uses the high school’s principal’s office to pause from the terror unfolding around them. He rests his elbows on the desk, hands cradling his head. Hoping that if he tries hard enough that Sam could wake up from the awful nightmare of the past few weeks. Where God wasn’t the bad guy, his brother and best friend weren’t fighting, and they hadn’t lost anyone.

Blinking open his eyes he sees only scattered papers and plans for renovating the school’s locker rooms.

Sam sighs, leaning back in the plush chair. Someone knocks on the door. He groans softly, scrubbing a tired hand across his face. “Come in.”

Rowena opens the door, peeking her head in. “Are office hours still applicable, professor?”

The joke cuts through the dense fog of worry and forces a wry chuckle from him. “I’m surprised you even know what office hours are.”

“I went on a few dates with a professor. Real bookworm he was, but he sure did know how to…” She fans her face, leaving the reigns of the sentence in Sam’s hands to take it where he pleases. 

He leaves it on the side of the road.

“Y’know,” she continues, stepping further into the room, “This kind of suits you… “

“What does?”

“The academic life.” Rowena’s grin curls like her hair, both fiery colors. “Sitting behind a desk, papers and books scattered about… although you’d look more the part with some glasses. And your jacket needs a few patches at the elbows…”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Rowena…”

“Now don’t take that tone with me Samuel,” she lilts, “I might still carry with me some of my old schoolgirl charm, but I don’t require a lecture. It’s been _ forever _ since I’ve been a _ bad girl _ and…” Her gaze rakes over him like scalding coals. “And I’m not sure you can come up with a fitting _ punishment _ at the moment.”

The implication rolls over him, sweeping through his body. His cheeks heat up, a healthy blush staining his cheeks. A dry rock lodges itself in his throat that won’t budge against his most powerful swallow. Sam’s hands twitch with the need to _ act _ so he starts playing with the papers on the desk, organizing them. He ignores the tent pitching in his jeans, rolling the chair further under the desk to better hide his lower half.

Rowena’s expression doesn’t falter, and the only clue she offers into her mind is a spark of violet exploding behind her eyes like fireworks. Enjoying the boiling cauldron she dropped Sam in. She struts closer, running her fingers along the edge of the desk.

“So,” she says, “how are you holding up?”

He freezes. The shift away from her teasing should be a welcome relief, yet he cannot help his spine stiffening. His hands stop fiddling, a stack of papers in his grip. Sam stares at them instead of the risk that comes from dipping his gaze upwards. Afraid that only one glance could shatter his makeshift dam.

It’s not the time. For now, Sam has to keep everything locked away until they close the hellmouth. Or when they find and kill Chuck. Whichever happens first. Only then will he allow himself the chance to fall apart.

He can breathe when he leaves the room.

Rowena clucks her tongue, Sam’s silence too lengthy. “You don’t have to play the brooding hero type, Samuel,” she chides, “Not with me.” Her touch hovers by his shoulder, slowly falling towards it.

Sam clears his throat, spinning around in the chair. Standing, he asks, “I thought you liked it, though?”

“Excuse me?”

“The brooding hero,” he continues, pacing the room, “strong, won’t show his pain… ready with a quick quip or two…” Sam grimaces, “Like Ketch.”

“Oh,” she says, “so that’s what this is about, then?”

“What?”

“Y’know _ jealousy _ is very unbecoming on you, Samuel,” Rowena says, each _ clack _ of her heel on the linoleum bringing her closer. “I would have figured you’d understand me and Ketch were only _ playing _…”

A knot in his gut, formed after watching them ‘play’ the first time, twists around once more. “Didn’t look that way to me,” he mumbles.

Sighing, Rowena closes the rest of the distance between them. “I didn’t think there’d be any _ harm _ in flirting. It’s not every day you run into the man who set you free from an underground prison facility in England. Besides, it’s not like there’s a man in my life who I _ can _ play with… at the moment.” She dangles an opportunity on a fishing line for him. Sam regretfully declines, unable to accept without guilt clawing at his lungs. 

“Pretty rotten time for flirting,” he says instead, “with the threat of the world ending at any second?”

“If I waited for the world to end, I'd never have time for _ anything _ let alone flirt,” she scoffs. “Multitasking never got anyone killed.”

“Neither has prioritizing.”

“I do plenty of that as well.” Sam finally faces Rowena, meeting her expectant smirk with a sullen gaze. “The fact that it’s my _ own _ needs over everyone else’s makes no difference.”

Sam attempts a smile, however nothing exists inside him light enough to lift the corners of his mouth. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of thinking like that.”

“Maybe if some people _ did _ they wouldn’t have to hide away in high school principal’s offices, would they?”

Frowning is second nature. “I’m not hiding.”

“You were only sitting in a room by yourself in the _ opposite _ side of the building, away from the gymnasium,” she says, “ _ Right _ . Now, I’ve entertained your attempted distractions long enough. We should discuss what’s _ really _ bothering you.”

Sam goes down swinging. “Why don’t you think it was only my jealousy?”

Rowena’s smile falls into a more genuine size as she hugged herself. “Because while I entertain the idea that I’m the star of the show from time to time, I’m self-aware enough to know when the stage lights are burning too bright for _ me _.”

The mistake happened when he turned around. He knew what would happen yet Sam locked eyes with her anyway. Without a word Rowena entranced him, her arched brow like a hex bag. Gaze searching through him like he was one of her spell books. The crazy part, Sam realized, was how safe he felt under her scrutiny. That the dead languages of his emotions were plain English to the Highland witch. How they shared a common tongue despite obvious differences.

Drowning is difficult when someone hands you a life preserver.

Sam shudders. “It’s not important… the ghosts, _ Hell _…”

“It _ is _ important, Sam,” Rowena tells him, barely an inch of space between them. She squeezes his shoulder, “ _ You’re _ important. We’re in this together… keeping your pain all bottled up won’t help _ anyone _ , let alone _ yourself _.”

He gasps for breath, crumpling. Rowena catches him, guiding him towards the ground. She combs her fingers through his hair, whispering spells of encouragement as Sam expunges all the darkness twisting inside of him. From the horrifying realization that God was never on their side to saying goodbye to Kevin, and every nasty bump on the road.

They sit like that, against a nearby bookshelf. Sam’s long legs spread in front of him and Rowena curled at his side. His head rests on his shoulder, nose tucked in so it brushes her neck every now and then.

“...Dean, Dean might look like he’s doing okay but I know he’s not,” Sam says, “I can’t give him something _ else _ to deal with. I should be able to handle all of this on my own. I _ have _ but I’m… I’m so tired. Everyone’s looking for _ me _ to have answers - I mean I was the one who shot _ God _. Everything after that I’ve been… I’ve just been winging.”

Rowena hums, nails scratching at his scalp. Each swipe sends a warm shiver skittering down his neck. “You’re really good at improvising then.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sam scoffs, “Firing the Equalizer was spur of the moment. I was… I was so angry. For Jack. For Dean and Cas. For… for _ me _ and every shitty thing that happened to me. All because someone was watching my life like I was a fucking Kardashian.”

“What I know about your life, God deserves more than a shoulder wound.” The hand not lost in his hair brushes his shoulder wound. Sam winces at the slight contact. “But then you wouldn’t be here would you, with us. With _ me _.”

“I like being with you.” Sam’s heart skips a beat, the admission slipping past him while distracted by Rowena’s voice and the scent of her perfume. She stills. Sam cranes his neck a few inches so he can sneak a glimpse of her face. Nothing escapes from the mask of indifference she swiftly plastered over her expressions. He looks deeper, and sees a burst of violet that causes his heart to recover and beat twice as fast.

“Your shoulder wound, Sam,” she starts, “May I see it?”

He nods, leaning as far away as he can while staying in her orbit. Sam shucks the jacket, and then unbuttons his shirt fully. His fingers paused at the third button. He could easily pull the fabric to show the rotting flesh. But then the fourth button came undone, and then the fifth, the sixth and all the rest. Slowly he removed his shirt and laid it atop the jacket.

Rowena licks her lips, huffing a breathy laugh. She adjusts herself to better face him, staring at his wound. The spark of magic resting within her, surging briefly throughout their conversation, completely awakens as she inspects the hole. Violet energy suffuses the natural hazel. Lightning pricks at his wound and he bites his lip to keep from groaning. The hardened skin puckers while the energy courses inside it. Seconds pass until finally the sparks stop and Sam tastes blood in my mouth.

“That’s powerful magic,” she sighs, “I’m sorry there’s not much I can do for that.”

Sam musters a smile, reaching forward. He holds her wrist, guiding her hand closer until it presses on his wound. Unlike every other time where a slight pressure or strong breeze would cause pain to flare, her touch brings a rushing calmness. “You’ve already done so much.”

Rowena goes to speak, but nothing escapes her lips. The quietness of the room has its own magic charging the air. Anticipation and possibility combining to create an energy so intoxicating Sam finds himself following without thought.

They kiss, a simple peck at first. After that, though, they quickly succumb to the raging heat burning inside both of them.

Rowena’s hand in his hair tugs on his locks while the other shifts over his heart, tracing the defined muscles. Sam helps her with her own clothes, tearing at her jacket and blouse. When he finds himself tracing skin Sam pulls away to look at Rowena. Gaze at what he imagined for so long, fill in the blanks he never knew. Like how she had a mole above her right hip and a scar tracing her left collar bone. The lacy, black bra he assumed would be under her clothes seemed better than anything he fantasized.

She gasps for breath, smiling. “Like what you see, Samuel?”

“Of course.”

“Well then let’s not waste any time,” she says, guiding him towards the floor, “I’d rather do this _ before _ the world ends.”

Sam laughs. An inappropriate gesture, he knows, but the mirth bubbles up so easily at the throwaway comment. Rowena chuckles as well, and between their joy Sam regrets not giving into his attraction sooner. He shakes it away. Not willing to dampen the mood with his own thoughts. Instead he unclasps Rowena’s bra and flings it to the side.

He surges upwards to steal a kiss while flipping them around. In her daze, Sam breaks their embrace and instead captures one of her nipples in his mouth. Sam runs his tongue across it, scraping it with his teeth. With how Rowena claws at his head, Sam knows she enjoys it. Her moans become throatier as he adds his fingers, tweaking the other nipple, leaving neither abandoned.

“Aggressive are you?” she asks, “I would have figured you’d be a sensitive lover…”

Sam pauses, sucking on the nipple until he _ pops _ off it. “Is that a problem?”

“On the contrary… I like it when things get, ah - _ rough _.”

He grins, expression darkening slightly. “There’s no other way I know how to do it.”

Continuing tracing shapes and letters onto her nipples, Sam goes through the Latin and the Enochian alphabet before continuing. Sam kisses across her stomach, pooling a slew of them above her pants.

Rowena sighs. “Will you hurry up already?”

Sam grins against her skin, biting at the beauty mark and causing her to yelp. “Let’s see how long we can make this last without the world imploding.”

“_ This _doesn’t sound like the Sam Winchester from ten minutes ago.”

“You’re right,” he smirks, unbuttoning her slacks, “thank… I, ah… don’t know how to finish that now that I know God’s a dick?”

“You could always thank Satan?” They both shudder. “Right, never mind. Carry on with what you were doing.”

“_Gladly_.”

Sam plays with her pants, inching the waistband down her hips. Dragging the process out infinitely. When they reach her knees Sam switches over to the matching panty set and pulls them lower as well. Blunt nails tracing her legs and leaving a trail of goosebumps. With both garments pooled at her knees, Sam finally finishes undressing her.

He crawls forward until he’s eye level with her pussy, framed by her ginger bramble. “You look so beautiful…”

“I know,” she says, “so hurry up and use that mouth for other things _ besides _ pointless chatter.” Her leg hooks over his shoulder and urges his mouth closer. Sam chuckles, allowing Rowena to push him until he’s buried.

Sam kisses her pussy, tongue lapping at her folds. He creates his own magic by spelling runes into Rowena, the effects rippling across her body. She rakes her fingers deeply into his hair enough that he feels the strands arcing on their return trip.

Like biting into a ripe apple, juices trickle down the sides of his mouth. His grip on her thighs tightened as he squeezes more pleasure out of her. He continues eating her pussy, pushing Rowena closer to the edge of her climax. Grinding on the floor to work his own stiff dick, feels precum dampen and stick to his boxers.

His release doesn’t matter at the moment. Right now he hears Rowena’s breath hitch, can sense her tumbling over the edge.

“Oh, Samuel this is… this is… I think I’m going to - ah… ah _ ah _!”

Her legs nearly snap his neck, Sam reacting at the last second to bend with the pressure. Rowena twitches with her orgasm, riding the high until she floats back towards the Earth. She pants while Sam cleans the remnants of her release.Wipes at his mouth and licks the cum from his hand.

Resting on his knees Sam towers over her, jeans uncomfortable. Rowena rises on her elbows, panting. “That was amazing Samuel,” she sighs, wiping her brow, “You make love like a _ rottweiler _…”

Sam rolls his eyes. He shifts in his pants, adjusting his crotch.

Rowena smirks. “You need a hand?”

He chuckles, unbuckling his belt and sliding it free. “If you’re offering?”

“I’ve always wanted to see what you looked like down there,” she says, licking her lips, “thanks for making a girl’s dreams come true.”

“I wouldn’t say this is a dream come true,” he chides, slapping her roaming hands away, “consider this your… _ punishment _.”

She pauses, catching his gaze. Her face splits in two with a wide grin. “Oh, professor… for you I’ll take _ any _ punishment you can _ throw _.”

“We have the time,” he says, “the world’s not ending tonight.”

“Aye, not if we have anything to do about it…”

Sam kisses her again, breathing in the life Rowena so easily gives. His shoulders weight less with her arms around them, and he feels younger than ever between her legs. No one can write an amazing night like this, and in this office with Rowena Sam is more confident that Chuck is powerless to stop them.

There’s no doubt they can do this.

* * *

Dean finds Belphegor and Castiel in the breakroom, arguing near the white board. He doesn’t see the person he was actually looking for. Before he can sneak away, however, Castiel catches his gaze and traps him with his gaze. Even under the ugly anger swirling inside of him, each time Dean glimpses the otherworldly blue his heart trips over itself.

But then Belphegor notices his appearance and traipses all over their moment. “Dean,” he says, smirking, “what’cha doin’ here buddy?”

Ignoring the nickname, he addresses the question to Castiel. “Looking for Sam. You seen him?”

Castiel shakes his head. “Sorry, I haven’t seen him in the past few hours.”

Dean nods, ready to turn on his heel. Belphegor coughs, though, drawing his attention. “What?”

“I might know where ol’ Sam is.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean shifts to face the demon impersonating his son. Glares into his reflection on the sunglasses and asks, “You want to share with the class?”

Belphegor shrugs. “Don’t know if I should. Seemed very personal when I stumbled in on them.”

Frowning, he steps closer. “Stumbled in on _ what _?”

“Y’know the redheaded witch?” he asks, “Well I was cruising the halls of this school, trying to find something to do - it’s so boring here. Anyway I heard moans and was like ‘awesome!’ I mean, sneaking away for a little action while all of this is going on? Sign me up. Except when I walked over to ask if I could join I recognized the voices and, well… let’s just say Sam is probably indisposed for the rest of the night.”

Dean blanches, regret oozing like bleach across his mind in an attempt to forget he heard that. Castiel looks as worse for wear, face tucked away to hide his blush.

“Sounds like they were having _ fun _ ,” Belphegor continues, “I think they broke something, too. As I was leaving there was this _ crash _ and -”

“Enough,” Dean shushes him, “Or I’ll carry out Ketch’s contract.”

“Someone’s got a stick up their ass,” Belphegor mutters, crossing his arms, “Maybe you wouldn’t be so pissed if you were getting some like your brother.”

“Please,” he scoffs, “there’s no time for any of that.”

“I’m sure there’s a line of people ready to help if you only asked.”

“And what, you’re at the front of the line?”

“I’m sure that belongs to Castiel.”

Dean tenses, every muscle in his body collapsing into itself. Quickly he darts his gaze over to Castiel to find his angel’s eyes wide and staring at him. Every instinct tells him to look away yet he cannot.

His mouth catches on almost immediately. “You’re ridiculous,” he scoffs, “He… he and I - we ain’t like that.”

“Oh, _ sure _ ,” Belphegor says, “then I must be crazy. I mean - ‘What about all of this is real? We are’. There’s _ nothing _ romantic about that.”

Castiel glares. “You were spying on us?”

“I was passing by!”

“Out!”

“So I can’t stay and watch?”

“_ Out _!” Together they cast the demon from the room, waiting until he closes the door behind him to relax. Even then it’s not by much.

Dean shuffles in place, aware of the heavy weight on his back from Castiel watching him. He faces the door as he speaks. “He was probably saying whatever to annoy us,” he says, “it’s no secret that we’re… not on good terms.”

Castiel sighs. “I know.”

“I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable,” Dean tells him, “if the thought of me having feelings for you - like that - uh…”

“Dean…”

He knows that tone. There’s a power hidden inside that melts Dean’s resolve and begs him to drift further. To give into the burning passion inside his heart and damn the consequences. Follow his instincts and make everything up as he goes along.

Dean escapes before the spell fully hits. His jelly-like legs power forward towards the exit. “I’m gonna make another patrol,” he says, knocking his knee against the door as he opens. Hissing, he carries on his departure. The pain faintly playing in the background of his mind. “If you see Sam tell him that.”

Castiel tried calling for him again. Dean wouldn’t stop running until he was far enough away he couldn’t hear his angel’s voice. Then he slumps against the wall, cursing himself.

As much as he wanted to believe Castiel’s words, there was no point. He was an angel, part of Chuck’s domain. As he learned Chuck never gives them anything for free. Whatever ‘real’ existed between him and Castiel was not truly so. It was a gift from Chuck that he could easily take back. A lie that once tasted sweet only leaves a bitter reminder for Dean that nothing golden lasts forever in his hands.

Pushing away from the wall, Dean moves towards the exit.

“Close the hellmouth, and then I can deal with… all of that,” he mumbles, “Or maybe after Chuck… or never. Not at all…”

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think?!?
> 
> Let me know in the comments! And with kudos!


End file.
